Unfit for the Likes of Me
by letitbe54
Summary: When Carlisle, a successful doctor, visits his brother Edward in New York City, who insists he visit a strip club, he meets an exotic dancer named Esme Platt. Carlisle loves her, but worries about how she will fit into his upscale life. Their relationship instantly blooms, but is the gap between their social classes too big for it to last? A three part trilogy of love and loss. AH
1. Chapter 1

**Summary : Carlisle, a successful doctor who lives in the woods of New York state, goes into the city to visit his brother Edward, a student at NYU. Much to his brother's ire Edward insists upon going to a strip club in the lower part of town where Carlisle meets the girl of his dreams, Esme Platt. Can a man like Carlisle love a woman like Esme or will the gap between them prove to be too strong?**

**Vampire or Human : Human**

**Rating : M**

**Couple : Carlisle/Esme **

**This will be a three part trilogy. Hope you enjoy! **

**OoOoOoOoO**

"You'll enjoy this, trust me," Edward assured me, slamming the taxi door shut and offering up the address of the strip joint to the driver. The Indonesian man grunted a reply and stepped on the gas, swerving into traffic quickly. I gripped the seat, my fingers digging into the soft fabric. This was not what I wanted to be doing on my weekend off. No I'd much rather be at home, looking over some medical journals and sipping on a nice red wine. Instead I'm here, riding in a dirty taxi in the heart of New York on the way to a strip club with my brother. Great.

"I go here all the time," Edward said, glancing at my white knuckles. He gave me a slight smile, his eyes laughing at me mockingly. "Best spot in town, in my humble opinion."

I scowled at him, returning my gaze to the window, abruptly cutting off his crude comments. The flashy neon lights of the big apple flashed by, igniting the night sky. The glowing street signs acted as makeshift stars, supplements to the real ones which had slowly disappeared over the years. People rushed by, racing across the streets, running into shop fronts and taxis, all eager to get somewhere fast. This huge city is nothing but a foreign land to me. New York City isn't attractive to me; it's dirty, dingy and just downright immoral. People here tend to be so much more conceited, so materialistic and vain, which truly does bother me.

My home lies miles away, deep in the woods of New York where the city lights are nothing more than a bright light on the horizon. I have peace and quiet, away from the commotion of a restless city. I can be alone, which is what I favor over anything else. Even though I love Edward dearly, his loud voice and overactive imagination can become quite annoying after more than 24 hours with him.

Well, almost anything. When my younger brother, Edward, who is a student at NYU, invited me to come spend the weekend with him in the city I begrudgingly agreed. I offered up several different places we could meet, but Edward turned them all down, saying he wanted me to experience the 'college life' once again. He told me over the phone that I've become increasingly boring over the years. I suppose maybe I have. Either way I agreed to meet him in the city sometime this weekend.

I hadn't seen Edward in over six months, and for us that's quite a long time. Even though we are technically only half-brothers (we share the same mother, but not the same father) the bond we share has always been particularly close. So I drove down this morning and plugged Edward's dorm address into my GPS so I could meet him out front before he left for his morning jog. He was thrilled, of course, and hastily made plans for the rest of the weekend.

Those plans, not to my surprise, consisted of getting wasted and hooking up with various women. I promptly declined the invitation for 'brotherly bonding' explaining to Edward that I didn't feel the need to have any physical contact with a woman, especially not with him around. Edward just laughed it off and promised me it would be the most enjoyable experience of my life, which I highly doubt.

The driver swerved to the side of the road and turned around. He stared at Edward with squinty eyes, his hand opening and closing. "Twenty five," he said, his English butchered at best.

I pulled out my wallet but Edward shook his head. "I got this one, Carlisle. Save that money for inside."

As Edward flipped through his wallet looking for the correct amount of bills I looked out the window, inspecting the scenery with cautious eyes. It was a fairly old and run down part of town, with a few stranglers walking around the streets, their hands stuffed in their pockets. The streets were dark and I could see piles of trash on each corner, some accompanied by a homeless person, others left alone, most likely never to be cleaned up. A few streets lamps were on, while others were only flickering, their light sometimes bright enough to offer a warm glow on the sidewalk underneath. I noticed a few strip clubs, just on this street, all of them equally repulsive. 'Blue Moon Girls,' 'Eclipse Gentleman's Club', 'Teasers'. The thought of having to sit in one of those clubs had my stomach churning and my palms sweaty. This part of town was already bad enough, now I have to sit and watch women take off their clothes for money? Dear God, what have I gotten myself into?

Edward paid the man and opened the door, sliding out onto the dimly lit street. I followed suit, stumbling on the curb ungracefully as the taxi sped away. Edward laughed and grabbed my hand, steadying my balance.

"Come on old man," Edward said, a chuckle still evident in his voice. "If you can't keep your knees straight now you'll never survive in there," he said, jerking his thumb in the direction of the club.

I glanced up, locking eyes with the flamboyant sign above a rather small club. It read, in bright blue neon, 'The Twilight Dancers'. A cut out of a woman's silhouette accompanied the letters, and underneath it were the words 'Gentleman's Club'. A few men idled outside of the club's doors, smoking cigarettes and conversing. Edward trotted along, showing his license to one of the men, who directed him through. I did the same and he waved me along, giving me a little wink as he did so.

"Have fun newbie," the man said in a burly voice. I gave him a bit of a nod before following Edward in.

The main room was incredibly smoky and instantly my eyes began to water. Edward guided me over to the bar where he sat down on one of the many stools, guiding me to do the same. We ordered drinks, and after a few rounds I began to feel a little more comfortable. The stage was empty, the curtains drawn, and besides the hordes of older men in business suits and druggies, the place looked like an everyday bar. The atmosphere wasn't entirely inviting, but it was entirely repulsive either, as I would have guessed. The bartender was nice enough, as were the other customers, much to my surprise. My worries slowly melted away as Edward and I chatted about his classes and my work, the stress over tonight finally flowing away. Maybe I could handle this. It is only one night after all.

"The show is set to begin in a few minutes. Twilight's got the best girls in town, trust me .The girls are even better at this hour. In the afternoon all they got are the crack heads and teenagers. They got the four best girls working the night shift on the weekend," he informed me, glancing at the stage with anticipation. I could feel my anxiety returning and tried to wash it away with a large gulp from my drink. Edward chuckled and ordered me another. "It'll be fun," he reminded me lightly.

Soon enough the red curtains opened and a more seductive set of tracks began to blare over the loud speakers. The lights faded a bit and directed toward the short, skinny girl on the stage. Edward nudged me, smiling brightly.

"That's Alice; she's a cute one, isn't she? A little short for me though, of course some guys really like that," Edward reasoned, his eyes centering in on a younger man with dirty blonde locks and kind grey eyes. He was cheering hysterically as the woman did her routine, throwing money at her uncovered chest. Alice smiled at him, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek. A blush spread across the man's face as the tiny woman peeled the rest of her clothes off, sashaying across the stage. Her short haircut reminded me of some sort of pixie, and her dark brown eyes were surprisingly warm and happy.

I tried to focus more on the girl's face and the men cheering for her then Alice's body. It just didn't feel right to stare at her in such a disgusting, and perverted way. I had absolutely no right to. My mind wandered off, and I began wondering how such a sweet, innocent looking girl could end up in a place like this, earning money by presenting herself as a whore in front of over a dozen men. How badly did she need the money? Did she have a baby to support? A sick mother? A younger sister?

Suddenly I wanted to leave, to escape this awful place. But I couldn't. I needed to see who else lived this way. I needed to see who really needed my help. My job as a doctor allows me to help people every day, people who are injured or dying, but all my life I have been restricted to helping only those that actually physically enter the hospital. This is different. I can help those who are struggling not in sickness, but in financial illness. I touched my wallet in my back pocket. I had over four hundred dollars on me. I always carry large amounts of cash just in case something happens, and because I knew we were going to be taking a cab and Edward has never been the most reliable person ever.

Who knows what four hundred dollars could mean to one of these girls? Another month's rent, some medicine, some food, anything really. It could mean life and death.

She blew a final kiss to the crowd and jumped back stage, her hands closed firmly around the clothes she had shed during her dance. The blonde man cheered loudly, as did many of the men in the club. Edward clapped a bit and knocked back another drink, his facial expression excited.

"Next up is Bella. She's a real beauty. Long dark brown hair, skinny and toned, tall and gorgeous. A real goddess. Out of all the girls here, she's the best looking," Edward promised, leaning back in his seat. He propped his elbows up on the bar, his glass in his hand, his eyes centered on the stage.

The next girl that came out was, as Edward promised, skinny and tall. She too had dark brown eyes that matched her silky hair, but this girl, unlike the last, looked more nervous and timid. She did smile a bit, especially when Edward cheered or tossed a couple bills in her general direction, but for the most part she was rather stoic. She was beautiful, but not in outstanding, cover girl model way. She reminded me more of a 'girl next door' then anything else, which is cute but not exactly my cup of tea. I applauded her all the same, and tried to look more at her face then what she was so freely exploiting.

Edward robustly cheered for the young woman, even standing up at one point, her name on his lips. If I didn't know better I would have called it love. His eyes sparkled as she gracefully left the stage, waving somewhat nervously to the crowd as she took her leave.

Edward sat back down, grabbing his drink as he did. The bartender refilled his glass and asked if I needed some more. I declined, reminding myself of what happened last time I drank too much. Let's just say it wasn't a good night for anyone.

Edward took a long gulp from his drink and pulled away, laughing heartily at the still teeming crowd.

"Bella's the best part of the whole show," Edward said drunkenly, slamming his glass down. The rather large and dark haired bartender gave him a hard look, which Edward promptly returned. "We could leave now if you want, catch a cab back to my dorm and your hotel."

I shrugged and shook my head. "Since I came all the way here I want to see something that _I'll _like," I lied, glancing at the clock. It was already almost 11 o'clock, much later then I would have liked to be out on any other night. But this was different, right? I'm going to help someone, anyone. That's why I'm here.

_I can do this._

Edward raised his eyebrows, surprised at my sudden and drastic change of mind. "Alright man, that's fine. There should be some fillers coming out soon. Nothing special, really. Even got boring names, Jessica, Angela, Lauren," he rattled on, counting each lady on his fingers. I was stunned by how well Edward knew all the ladies names (not to mention when they would come out) especially when the manager of the place rarely announced their names. He did say he comes here a lot.

"What I know you'll like are the last two ladies," Edward said, grabbing my shoulder and pulling me closer. I could smell vodka on his breath, thick and strong, much stronger than what I had been drinking. "Curvy girls with big tits," he said, making an hourglass shape with his hands. He laughed at my expression, rolling his eyes as he snorted.

"You'll like em'" he promised, glancing at the bartender.

"Hey Em!" he called, ushering the burly man over. "That Rosalie one is your girl, isn't she?"

The man grunted a reply, nodding slightly as he picked up a glass and began rubbing it with a towel. "Yeah."

"Too bad," Edward said, rather loudly. A few on lookers turned their heads at the flashy college student who was obviously completely drunk. "She's a cutie. Big boobs too, I'm guessing DD's at least."

The man shuffled, eyeing him heatedly. Edward, seemingly unfazed by the man's deathly stare, continued to ramble on about the girls at the club, talking about them as if they were nothing but property. As if they weren't real people.

"Well the last one, she's a real beauty. Very v-v-vivacious!" Edward said, attracting even more stares. "A little _too_ curvy for me though. I like tits and that's it!"

I smiled at Edward's shallow comment and helped him off the stool. His knees shook awkwardly as he ambled over to the viewing area in front of the stage. A few ladies were already flitting around, dressed up in various costumes, all more ridiculous then the last. (Bunnies? Nurses? Firefighters? Really? How is that even remotely attractive?) I sat Edward down in one of the chairs and plopped down beside him, rejecting one of the girl's offers for a lap dance. She looked somewhat thankful, her eyes betraying her lusty costume. I handed her a twenty dollar bill and told her to get away from here. She gave me a serious look and nodded, promising me she would. At least I made one difference tonight.

The next hour went by incredibly slowly. Edward continually dozed off, drool dribbling out of his mouth to land on the fabric of the chair. Thankfully that alone was enough to keep most of the women at bay, though a chosen few were brave enough to come up to us and ask us if we wanted anything. The answer was always no, which most of them took surprisingly well. I tried to give away as much money as I could, especially to the ones that looked particularly in need of some food or other necessity. They were polite ladies, much more polite then the female (and male) doctors I have to deal with every day at work. They didn't have an incredible ego or an estate in the Hamptons to brag about. They were just trying to make it by, and that was, as odd as it sounds, relatable.

Rosalie made her appearance later on in the night, and she was quite pretty. She never went off the stage, but every single man in that bar had his eyes centered on her, including me, even though she wasn't exactly what I was looking for. She was gorgeous, but, not surprisingly, very fake. From my years of medical school (and not to mention just common sense) I could tell she had had breast augmentation as well as a nose job. She was incredibly thin besides her hips and bust, which were, in my mind, disproportionally large, though most men in the club would disagree, for she was the most sought after commodity of the night so far. Men were throwing hundreds at the beautiful lady, desperately trying to get her to take off more of her pink and glittery outfit. Her boyfriend, the bartender whose name I had found out was Emmett, looked at the scene with mild disgust, though I could tell he too was under the woman's trance. No one was immune to her. Even Edward, who had been fast asleep awoke with a startle when Rosalie began her dance. Fake as she was, she sure knew how to draw a crowd. The music was seductive and lively at the same time, matching the girl's colorful but shadowy makeup. She twirled her arms above her head and pulled off her bright purple corset, throwing it to the corner of the stage nonchalantly.

Her dance was absolutely hypnotizing. The way her hips glided across the pole, her arms arching to grab at the metal surface, it was near magical. Her tight panties gripped her waist like a jealous lover, never relinquishing their tight hold, even when the men became especially rowdy. I applauded her for that; at least she can leave tonight and have a few strands of her dignity intact. I'm sure her boyfriend will be thankful for that.

She pranced off the stage, blowing a kiss to her boyfriend at the bar before jumping to her dressing room. The man behind the counter blushed, an odd contrast to his strictness.

Rosalie was promptly replaced by another woman, who Edward informed me was 'Esme', though it could have been something else, his voice was very groggy. He sighed and rolled over in his chair as I watched the lady on the stage.

She was, in every sense of the word, my 'taste'. Long caramel tresses captured her heart shaped face and coffee colored eyes perfectly, accenting the softness of her features and her full ruby colored lips. Her body was very feminine and soft under her flashy corset and buckle up fishnet stockings, so much that her milky skin pushed out from the black diamonds on her tights, though not enough to make her seem fat. No, she was just soft and cute. Perfect. Her chest was just as large as Rosalie's, but the rest of her was much more in proportion. She had nice, shapely hips and an adorable rounded bum which suited her figure excellently. Her corset was a bright pink, and her panties a shiny shade of purple. She was wearing a pair of glittery heels and had a rather profound layer of flashy makeup, neither of which was needed. I could tell she would be absolutely gorgeous without any of the flashiness the club must have made her wear.

I knew at that moment that I needed to have her. I needed to feel her lips against my own, her hips against mine. I just _needed_ her. It wasn't love, no I've lived on this earth long enough to know that love at first sight doesn't exist, but it most certainly was lust, and lots of it. I'm not an overly sexual man. I'm not a virgin, but I don't prowl the streets every night for something to play with. I had a serious girlfriend a few years ago by the name of Irina, who I formally proposed to on our two-year anniversary. Long story short she dumped me and I haven't seen her since. I thought she was pretty, beautiful even, but she is nothing when compared to Esme's beauty. Absolutely nothing.

She stumbled around the stage, her dance not near as intricate as her competitors, but amazing all the same. She didn't move with as much grace as the others, and didn't smile or laugh near as much, which had me worried about the cute young woman who couldn't have been more then 27. She walked across the stage, grinding her hips against the pole and leaning her head back, showing off her pale white neck and barely there collar bone. The crowd swooned and a few men threw money at her, something I hadn't even considered till that moment.

I quickly pulled out my wallet and pulled out the remaining bills, three hundred dollars, and got up from my seat, rousing Edward as I did. He looked up at me, one eyebrow raised in a peculiar fashion.

He looked at the stage and grinned, nodding like an idiot. "I get it man, trying to get a little tonight. Fine by me, I got enough for cab fare. You get a little loving," he said jokingly, immediately falling back asleep.

I sighed and walked toward the stage, brushing against the other men to get a better look. She was even more beautiful from a closer angle. Her hair fell over her shoulders, her eyes surprisingly serious as she maneuvered herself through the moves, tearing off material as she went. She unhooked her bra and threw it over her shoulder, releasing her breasts from their confines. The men around me hollered, one man going so far as to pull off his tie and spin it around over his head, reminding me of some sort of teenager instead of a middle aged man. He laughed loudly and threw money at the young woman, proving to be just as rowdy as the child I accused him of being.

Esme bent down, scooping up the money and shoving it into the cups of her discarded bra. A few men laughed as she kicked the garment off the stage and into the area behind. I continued to walk forward until I was directly in front of the stage, the purple and blue lights from Esme's show turning my skin a freakish pink.

Esme smiled brightly for the first time as she leaned down and shook her chest openly, flaunting her well-developed bust and soft midsection. I resisted the urge to lean forward and touch her tender skin, run my hands through her shiny locks, make her smile and laugh, God how I wanted her to be happy. God how I wanted to take her right here, right now.

_Get yourself together, Carlisle! She's a stripper for God's sake, not a prostitute!_

Her hands went to the edge of her panties as she unhooked her stockings, slowly easing them down after pushing her heels off.

"Ready for some fun, boys?" Esme cooed, tugging at her flashy panties. The men joined into a loud chorus, demanding her to shed her last piece of dignity and reveal herself to the world. I couldn't let her do that. Such a beautiful creature shouldn't be in such a low, dingy place anyway. She deserves to live in a palace, or at least a mansion, miles away from this cursed club and disgusting city. She deserves to have a real life, away from these grubby cheating husbands and perverted college students. She deserves more.

"Wait! Esme!" I called out to the woman, causing her to pause completely. She stared at me, her gaze more curious then anything. I reached into my pocket and produced the three hundred dollars I had stored, offering it to her with an open hand. She glared at the money and hopped off the stage, promptly grabbing the bills before my hand could retreat. She went over to a darkened closet near the corner of the club and pulled out a long trench coat which she quickly pulled on over her minimal clothing.

_What is she doing now?_

Another dancer arrived on stage as Esme grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the exit. I could hear the crowd exciting again as the fresh girl began her routine, ready to impress. How could they forget about the caramel haired beauty so quickly? Such a woman should not be diminished so quickly.

"Wait!" I said hastily, breaking contact with the girl. She stared at me, her eyes squinting as she dug through her pockets, producing the money.

"I'll give you the money back now, but once we go back to your place I get to keep the green, no matter what. And you have to wear a condom, or no go," Esme said formally, eyeing the bartender who had turned his back, embarrassed to see such a scene. I noticed the manager in the corner, a cigarette sticking out of his mouth, a cocky grin plastered on his face.

_Disgusting._

"What? No, I was just giving you some money to spend on whatever you need; it was just a gift I guess. I'm not asking you for sex, I can promise you that," I assured her.

_No matter how gorgeous she is I'm not going to hire a prostitute. I'm most certainly not _that_ drunk._

I hesitantly walked over towards my brother. I nudged him a bit to get him to wake up and then helped him stand. He smiled groggily and walked toward Esme, who smiled at him.

"Well, I don't want to stick around here anyway; the boss gets frisky after one. He usually lets me go if he knows I'm handling a client. Mind if I tag along, you know just to keep up appearances? This place is a total drag but money is money," she sighed, tucking the bills back into her pocket. I suddenly wished I had carried more money. Anything to make her happy, anything to make her smile that gorgeous smile.

"Yeah, of course. Can you help me carry my brother out? I think he's had a little too much to drink," I said uneasily, eyeing the drunken man that was my sibling.

Esme giggled and nodded, easing one of Edward's arms around her shoulders as I did the same. We lumbered out of the club, Edward mumbling incoherently as we did so. Esme took it lightly, laughing at Edward's crude comments about the strip joint.

"You and your friend Rosie got big tits," Edward slurred, leaning down to spit up on the sidewalk. He pulled his arm away from me to wipe his mouth on his shirt sleeve.

Esme smiled and pulled her coat around her body, tightly concealing her form. "Thanks I think?"

Edward laughed and smacked his knee loudly, his eyes a swollen red in the dim light. "It's a compliment, sweetie. And as for you my big brother, I'm really proud of you, bringing home a prostitute. Finally put on your big boy pants and hit puberty," he chuckled, slapping my chest with an open palm. His comment didn't go unnoticed by Esme, who had hid her giggling face behind her hands.

"She's not a prostitute, and I'm not bringing her back to my hotel. For God's sake Edward, pull yourself together!" I commanded, dragging Edward to the curb of the street where Esme had hailed a cab. I pushed my brother in, situating him on the farthest side while I sat in the middle. Esme sat down beside me, her bare thigh brushing up against mine. I adjusted my pants awkwardly, offering Esme a weak smile.

The driver looked at me with admiration as he pulled out onto the street and out of the dingy neighborhood.

**OoOoOoOoO**

"It was wonderful meeting you, Edward. Just sleep all those drinks off and you'll be ok," Esme called as Edward ambled towards his dorm building. He gave her a bright smile and nod before disappearing into the building, leaving the cab awkwardly silent.

I moved over to Edward's seat when he left to give Esme more room, but she insisted upon sitting next to me, and moved over to the middle.

"It's cold in here," she whispered fiercely, snuggling up against my jacket. "And you're very warm."

The comment, though somewhat innocent, when straight down. The feeling of being so sexually stimulated was odd, especially after so many years without a girlfriend. Irina didn't do this to me, and neither has anyone else in my life.

But I couldn't come across so crude, especially to such a gorgeous creature. I had to measure my steps wisely. Maybe in a few weeks I could come back to the city and talk with her again, in a more formal setting. After a few more visits I could ask her out, and then maybe ask her to move in with me. It's a far stretch, but anything can happen.

As much as I want something to happen tonight, my morals were telling me to stop. I'm not the type of man who takes advantage of girls, especially when I just met them. I wouldn't pressure Esme into doing anything; I would treat her like the lady she is, no matter what.

I offered her my jacket, but she declined it with a wave of her hand. "You do the job just fine," she reasoned, wrapping her arms around mine. She smelled of cigarette smoke and apple cinnamon, a surprisingly delectable combination. Her nail polish was a bright red, a stark contrast to my grey jacket.

"You smell nice," she murmured, scooting closer toward me. I smiled and scooted closer toward the door. She pushed herself against me, breathing in my scent deeply. "Like a pine forest. Not that I would really know anyway, though. I've never seen the world outside of this city."

"You've never seen a real forest?" I asked, perplexed by the information. How could someone live their whole life in this accursed place? I instantly realized how much I take for granted in my life, how some people never get to experience the level of nature I see outside my window every day.

"Besides Central Park? Never. I'd love to, but I barely make enough to get by now. I'll never have enough to get out of her," she said mysteriously, looking out the window with wanting eyes.

I grabbed her hand gently, running my fingers over her smooth skin. She gave me a sad smile and kissed me on the cheek, causing me to blush deeply. Her laugh was minx like, as well as extremely infectious. Before we knew we were rolling around in the back seat, trying to catch our breaths as Esme teased me about being so demure. She was too cute.

"Is that the hotel you're staying at?" Esme asked suddenly, pointing outside. I nodded hastily and told the driver to take Esme where ever she wanted to go. Edward had already handed the guy a hundred anyway, the least he could do was drive her home.

"Maybe I'll see you again sometime, Esme. It was nice meeting you."

The driver pulled up to the curb and I hopped out, carefully shutting the door after saying a final goodbye to Esme. The cold air nipped at my neck and hands as I walked toward the shiny glass door of the five star hotel. It was an almo0st completely clear night, and the sky scrapers were lit up, brushing the few stray clouds with their incredible height.

I dodged a few strangers as I walked, unaware of how to act in such a congested city. I felt alone for the first time since arriving, and although I love spending time by myself, I wanted someone. No actually I didn't want someone, I wanted Esme.

A part of me regretted leaving her in that cab and allowing her to disappear; I should have invited her up to my room. Not for sex, but just for conversation. Just two people getting to know each other, nothing more nothing less. She was so intriguing, so different than anyone I had ever met before. She was perfect, but flawed in so many ways. I just wanted to read into her a little further, understand her a little better.

Hopefully one day I would see her again, though it could be ten, twenty, even thirty years before I visit New York again. Edward will be graduating in the spring and once he moves I will no longer have a reason to come, or a guide to help me get through the confusing maze of streets and subways.

_And you didn't even get her phone number! What's wrong with you?_

I glanced behind me, but the road was empty. She was already gone. She had slipped through my fingers, just like Irina.

_Women are so confusing._

As I rounded the corner and opened the hotel lobby door Esme appeared out of nowhere, a bright smile on her face. My surprise didn't even have time to register as she leaned forward and whispered in my ear, her voice husky.

"I couldn't leave such a good catch."

She kissed my check and raced forward, her heels, which I hadn't even noticed she had grabbed back at the club, clicked noisily across the marble floor. I bolted in after her, not even bothering to ask her what she was doing. I was more focused on hiding my erection then anything else. The uppity hotel guests stared at the stripper with disapproving eyes, which I could tell bothered Esme only a little. She jumped a bit when I hit the up button on the elevator and ushered her in, her posture awkward and ditzy.

"Sorry about that Mr.…"

It took me a minute to realize she was asking for my name. A blush appeared on my face and I shuffled uncomfortably. "Dr. Carlisle Cullen," I coughed out, pulling at my shirt collar. Esme's presence seemed to have an increasingly heated effect on me. I adjusted my pants, trying futilely to think of something other than the way Esme's cleavage line seemed to grow as she began breathing heavily, the trench coat collar dipping slowly.

"Hmm…a doctor. I've never had a doctor before," she told me seductively. She walked toward me, backing me into the corner tightly. She landed a sensual kiss on my lips, igniting a fierce fire within me. I kissed her back, roughly grabbing her hair and pulling her into my arms.

The beast inside of me, the one that hasn't been released for three years, suddenly came alive as Esme pushed her hips against mine. I could almost feel her heated core as she grinded against my swelling erection. She shoved her tongue inside my mouth, eagerly fighting my own for dominance. Her hands wandered down, her fingers hooking themselves over my belt. Her hair was silky under my touch, her curves soft and perfect.

She moaned into the kiss, deepening it further as she pushed me harder against the elevator wall. Her hands went down to my pants and she began unzipping the material swiftly, but before she could do anything the elevator pinged and the doors opened widely.

An older couple stood in front of the door, their mouths reminding me of little O's, their eyes wide and staring. The man grabbed his wife and directed her away from the elevator, but not before giving me a wink over his shoulder. I returned it with a nod and Esme laughed, grabbing my hand and pulling me out.

We raced toward my room, Esme nearly tripping over her heels in the process.

"Damn things!" she murmured, stopping momentarily to pull them off before resuming her chase.

I fumbled with the key, clumsily sticking it into the slot and pulling it back out a second early. I tried again a second time and it worked, the handle relinquishing under my grip. Esme pushed me forward into the room and shut the door behind me, shedding her coat somewhere in between.

"You probably think I'm a whore, don't you?" she said accusingly as she kicked her jacket to the side. It was puzzling how comfortable she seemed without a shirt on. I suppose when you work as a stripper that happens.

I sat down on the bed and flicked on the table side lamp. The soft light illuminated the room nicely and gave me a sudden feeling of ease. "Of course not."

"Well I guess that's reassuring," she mumbled as she walked forward, sitting down next to me on the bed. She leaned back and pulled me down onto her, brushing her hand over my lips. "You are the most handsome man I have ever had the honor of meeting," she said seriously.

"Thank you," I said softly. I pushed her hand away, crashing my lips against hers.

She laid back completely, her caramel colored waves fanning out over the azure blanket. She pushed her breasts against my chest, arching her back as my hands went to her hips. I nipped at her lips playfully, her tongue grazing my teeth. She tasted sweet, like summertime and candy. She groaned underneath me, tugging at my pants.

"I need you. Please," she begged quietly. "I don't know why but I already love you. I know that probably sounds weird, but I do. Please let me show you."

"Of course my lovely," I said gently, standing up quickly. Esme rolled out from underneath me and pulled her panties off in one smooth move. I could see she was already wet and ready. Her scent was truly intoxicating. She let the panties fall to the floor, allowing me to see her completely unclothed.

She was truly divine, a goddess thrown to earth.

_Beautiful._

I began to unbutton my shirt and quickly grew frustrated with the amount of buttons. It didn't help that Esme had opened her legs for me, her arms behind her head, ready for what I wanted so dearly to give her. What I've wanted so greedily all along. I needed to be unclothed… now.

I rushed through the rest of the buttons, tugging off the shirt in my haste. I unbuckled my belt and pushed my pants down. Esme grinned from her position on the bed and sat up to brush her fingers over my stiff member.

Her cool breath fanned across my face as she giggled and pulled me down onto the bed again. She was so soft under me, so soft and feminine when compared to any other woman.

_What happened to 'no sex', Carlisle? What happened to 'being a gentleman'?_

My mind threw words at me a million miles an hour but I was powerless to stop. I couldn't stop now. I needed her and she needed me. I'm a gentleman but I'm also a man, and I still have wants and needs.

I grinded my boxer clad hips against her wetness, hoping to liquefy her further. She groaned and tossed her head back, panting heavily. She sighed lustfully as I leaned down to kiss her belly, my tongue dipping into her navel. My tongue made its way up to her breasts where I playfully lapped and nipped at them.

She moved her hands to my shoulders, squeezing them tightly as I ravished her breasts. They were perfectly round and full, and, thank-god, natural. I cupped her womanly mounds and she gasped in pleasure, increasing her pressure on my shoulders.

"Can I taste you, Esme?" I asked as she writhed beneath me.

"Please…" she insisted, nodding hastily, her eyes closed firmly. I must be doing something right. Irina never seemed to enjoy sex this much.

Esme's body was slick with sweat, her body warm and soft as I lowered myself toward her.

_Perfection._

I leaned down on the bed and positioned myself in front of her heated core. I dipped two fingers within her and began steadily pumping them, working her towards her release.

"God Esme, you're so wet," I moaned.

"All for you honey," she replied, bucking her hips to meet my awaiting hand.

After a few minutes I replaced my fingers with my teeth and tongue, lapping at her juices and nipping at her folds. She pushed herself against me, eager and ready.

"Please, please," she begged as I circled her clit with my tongue. I bit the little nub roughly and she screamed, sighing with pleasure. She was incredibly sexy when she did that, the way her lips parted and her eyes fluttered. I could get off just to her facial expressions.

Esme bit her lip, squirming under me. I knew what she wanted, what she needed.

"Come on baby, come for me," I encouraged, switching back to my pumping method when I saw her eyes begin to roll. I increased my tempo as Esme's moans became louder.

"Uh, ohohOh!"

She screamed sharply, her slick folds exploding with her delectable juices as she reached her nirvana. I pulled my fingers out, licking them clean as she sat up, her elbows digging into the comforter. Her soft brown eyes were glazed with lust, their dark depths provoking me in ways I couldn't imagaine.

She tasted like the finest wine and the sweetest ice cream mixed together. What a surprisingly delicious combination it was.

"I need you inside me. Now," she commanded. Nimbly, her fingers found the band of my boxers, her hand going down to wrap itself around my girth. She swooned as I groaned.

"You are a big boy, aren't you?" she said seductively, removing her hand from my length. I moaned, missing the feeling of her tight warm hand around me.

She laughed brightly, tilting her head back. I stood awkwardly, awaiting her direction. This didn't exactly come naturally to me.

She pulled my boxers down, releasing my aching member from its confines. She tossed the boxers as she stared at my member, her eyes slightly wide.

"I really hope you fit," she said, her tone worried.

I gave her a cocky smile, shrugging slightly. "It will, trust me."

I stood up and pulled her toward the edge of the bed. I nudged her legs open with my knees, readying her for my intrusion.

That's when I remembered something incredibly embarrassing.

"I, uh, got a condom around here somewhere," I said quietly, wondering over to my suitcase, which I knew wouldn't hold a condom. I've never been one to think about things like that. I picked through the bag halfheartedly, my once erect member slowly lying back down with every passing second.

I heard Esme sigh and get up. She wondered over to her jacket and picked it up, searching through the pockets quickly. She pulled out a shiny package and quickly pulled it open.

"I trust you, and I am on the pill, but I don't want to take any chances," she informed me, rolling the condom on me. "The boss always has one or two in each jacket. Pregnant girls can't dance very well."

I nodded curtly and pushed her back down on the bed. She resumed her previous position, spreading her legs widely. I bent down and kissed her softly as I entered her. She cried out, her fingernails raking across my back. I groaned into her hair as I pushed in, her moist sex deliciously warm around my stiff counterpart. The sound of our slippery skin slapping against each other egged on my orgasm. I could feel myself building, my body ready to let go. I placed my hands on her hips, assisting in my balance. Her hips were plump and soft, matching the rest of her.

"So tight, Esme," I groaned into her ear as she clenched her muscles around me. She was incredibly tight; especially for someone I had originally thought would be rather…loose.

Esme whined and purred, reminding me of a kitten as continually pushed into her. She looked so beautiful like this, her hair a tangled mess, her breasts bouncing erotically, her hips bowing off the bed, eager for a release. The sweet smell of sex and sweat coated the room like a fog. We breathed it in, relishing in our love making.

My hands found her breast as I thrust into her, her skin satiny smooth beneath me. Her nipples were hard and pert, the blood in her body flowing directly towards the little nubs. I twisted them, taking a little peak into my mouth, sucking on it tersely. Esme mewled, pressing herself against me harder.

"So close…please Carlisle l…I-I need to cum," she whined pitifully, wriggling cutely.

Her cries didn't go unheeded as I pushed myself harder, my thrusts becoming rougher and rougher. She was relenting, her body like melting plastic against my own.

And at that moment we were one, together. We were the only people in the world, and nothing else really mattered. I wasn't a successful doctor, and she wasn't a stripper. We were just Carlisle and Esme, in love and in lust. Melded in this fashion our worlds didn't seem so far apart. We were one. We didn't need anything else. We have this, and this is love.

I grabbed both her wrists with one hand, placing them above her head. With one final thrust I buried myself to the hilt inside her tight, young pussy. She yelped in ecstasy, sweat dribbling off her brow.

I could feel myself building, the end so near. Pleasure flowed through my body, racking my limbs and causing a long groan to escape my mouth. I felt her tighten around me, her lips parting, her eyes squeezing shut.

Esme melted underneath me, screaming slightly as she came undone for the second time. I pulled out of her, rolling off the condom and throwing it into the trash. She sat up against the headboard, her eyes still slightly shut. I could tell she was tired.

"Thank you," I said hastily, kissing her once more.

She groaned and rolled over, her mouth slightly parted and swollen from my kisses. "Thank you. That was…beautiful."

I agreed and she snuggled into my embrace, falling asleep in my arms to the sounds of a restless city, her post coital glow causing her skin to shine.

**OoOoOoOoO**

**I really hoped you liked it! Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello readers! I know it's been a long time since my last update, but I am still alive and well, just incredibly busy! This chpater focuses on Carlisle and Esme's budding romance (oh the fluff!) and the complications that will follow (oh the angst!). I also want to announce that i don't think I'm going to finish this story after three chapters. There's just too much story to be told. I have no idea how many chapters it will end up being, but it will most likely be more than five. Hope you enjoy this chapter and make sure to review and tell me what you think! **

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**OoOoOoOoO**

When I woke up light was streaming in through the window, and the bed was empty. I rubbed at my sleep covered eyes, still disastrously tired, even though it was already 9 o'clock, hours past my normal alarm clock setting. I found my phone lying next to me on the bed stand and picked it up, flipping through the new messages. There were a few from work, and one from Edward.

_Hope you had fun last night. I'll let you sleep in. How does lunch at 12:30 sound?_

I quickly sent a positive reply and hopped out of bed. Oddly enough I was completely naked.

That's when it all came back to me.

The club, the girl, the sex. Everything.

The calm, serene feeling I had when I had awoken evaporated in the air, leaving me stressed and tense. I threw on a pair of pants and a t-shirt, running a comb through my hair quickly. So many questions were running through my head, way too many to keep track of.

_What am I supposed to do now?_

I've never even had a 'one night stand' before. I'm just not that type of guy, or at least I _thought _I wasn't that type of guy. But I guess I am. I mean I did use a girl for sex. Or did I? Was there something more than lust last night? I remember she told me she loved me, but people will say anything to get what they want. Did I love her? Do I love her?

And where is she now?

Her jacket was still lying on the floor, along with her panties and bra, so obviously she didn't get very far. I checked around the room but found no one. In my search I noticed a small envelope tucked away beneath the sheets, spindly handwriting coating the front.

_Dear Doctor,_

_ I was hungry and you were asleep so I went downstairs to get some breakfast. Hope you don't mind!_

_ -Esme._

It was short and sweet, just like Esme.

For some reason I placed the envelope in my suitcase before leaving. Something about Esme made her…irreplaceable. I couldn't throw a letter written by her away, even if it was something so simple. I couldn't waste something so lovely. For some reason I couldn't stop liking her, even though my confusion over the night before. It was impossible to _not like_ Esme.

I hopped on the elevator, quickly punching the 'lobby' button. The older couple that spotted Esme and I the night before were standing next to me, their eyes steadily disapproving. They reminded me of my parents, overbearing and constantly disappointed. I breathed a sigh of relief when they got off on the next floor. I've never liked people disapproving of me, it made me feel…uncomfortable. So, instead I chose to fit in. Well, I chose that route until now.

My parents taught me how to fit into the mold. I learned quickly.

The dining hall was, as I predicated, packed. The hotel was moderately large, and quite luxurious, hence the impressive chandeliers and table clothes. High class members of society eating miniature crêpes and sucking down lattes by the dozen were in abundance, which caused a tingle to run up my spine. A nervous tingle. Esme would stick out like a sore thumb in here, and stick out she did. It would have taken me a while to weed through all the guests to find Esme, but luckily for me she was pretty obvious.

There, standing in the middle of the marble-floored hall was Esme, clad only in one of my button down shirts and a pair of bright red boxers. She spotted me and sent me a huge grin, waving me over as she fixed a heaping pile of egg Benedict on her plate. I heaved a sigh and rushed over, ducking my head slightly, mentally hoping no one would recognize me. God knows this story will be told around someone's dinner table tonight.

_So I was just eating my breakfast and this voluptuous, caramel haired woman comes strolling in dressed in men's clothes, underwear to be exact. Absurd, isn't it?_

Yep, I can see it now. This will forever go down in history as the worst morning ever.

"Esme! W-what are you doing?" I exclaimed, pulling her aside by her arm, nearly causing her to drop her plate. She cast me an annoyed look, rolling her eyes as she yanked her arm from my grasp.

"Did you not find the note? What does it look like I'm doing?" she asked sharply, her tone surprisingly rude. A look of regret flashed across her face, but before I could really pin it as such it was gone. Looking suddenly flustered she walked over toward a stray table near the back of the large banquet room and sat down, crossing her legs daintily as she began to eat.

I followed her lead and sat down next to her, my embarrassment and anger over the situation slowly fading away. There wasn't much I could do anyway. She obviously doesn't understand proper etiquette, and I _know_ she doesn't have any proper clothing to wear. What else could she have done?

_Wait for you to wake up so you could stop her from doing something so stupid._

Yeah, as if that would have happened. She's much too hard-headed for that.

Esme glanced up at me, her fork close to her mouth. She raised her eyebrows and dropped the utensil, leaning back in her chair casually. "So, what do we do now?" she asked quietly.

I coughed awkwardly, inwardly chastising myself for getting stuck in this situation in the first place. I used a woman I didn't even know for my own personal gain, and now I have to decide what happens afterwards. What am I supposed to say? Go home? Thanks for the nice lay?

No, I couldn't just push her away in such a casual way. Surely I can do something for this poor woman, even if it's just offering her a couple thousand dollars.

"I mean it's not like I can be like your girlfriend or anything. I bet you already have one anyway, don't you?" she asked sourly, tapping her finger against a glass of orange juice.

My mind faded to Irina. She was certainly not my girlfriend, but for some reason I still associated her with that title. I glanced at Esme, taking in her current appearance. She was beautiful, as I had already mentioned, but she looked like a prostitute. She looked poor. She didn't look like Irina with her fancy clothes and million dollar manicures, she looked like a struggling young woman who had found a job that was degrading, but at the end of the day would hopefully pay the bills.

She didn't fit into my life-like Irina did. She wasn't the daughter of a rich CEO, destined to become a trophy wife and a spoiled brat; she was just a city stripper. Why am I stringing her along, acting like she has business hanging around the likes of me?

Oh, how awful I sound, but how true it is. I cannot ignore how odd this whole thing is. So what am I supposed to do?

"So where do I pick up the check in here?" Esme asked, pushing her plate aside as she stared down one of the waiters.

"You don't have to pay, Esme. It's free since I'm a guest," I replied coolly.

Esme smiled that bright smile that seemed to weaken my knees almost instantly. She was so striking, a true testament to female beauty. "Well, thanks, Doc. Now that I'm fed, I'm going to go up and take a shower. Join me?" she asked seductively, planting a long nailed hand on my shoulder.

She abruptly stood, causing _my_ shirt to ride up in an embarrassing manner. I hissed and grabbed the hem as I got up, pulling the shirt down to cover _my_ boxers. I noticed a small blonde haired girl laughing as Esme walked through the dining area, grabbing an apple at the end of the bar before exiting. The little girl pointed mockingly and her mother hushed her sternly, but not before shaking her head at Esme. I gave her a dangerous look and grabbed Esme by the shoulders, guiding her to the elevator as she munched on the red ripened fruit.

We did shower, but separately, much to Esme's ire. She of course didn't seem to think much of this whole situation; I blamed it on her career and lifestyle. She doesn't understand consequences like I do. Then again, who am I to judge this woman who I hardly even know? How long have I known her? Half a day maybe, and most of that time we spent sleeping.

Never the less, I decided, while Esme was showering, to make a list of things my parents would approve of in regards to Esme. Just in case this whole 'I love you' thing turns into an actual relationship, which I doubt it will, but still…

I pulled out a notepad and pen, using my knee as a desk. I wrote 'Qualities Mum and Dad would like in Esme,' at the top and underlined it thickly. Next I numbered the side of the page up to ten, dotting each number to keep it organized. I thought about adding more numbers, but quickly remembered just how hard it would be just to reach ten, what with my parent's high expectations and Esme's…varied style of living.

I tapped the pen against my chin as I thought of the first quality. I of course could come up with many I admired in Esme, but very few came to my mind when thinking of what my parents would want to see.

Money? No.

Important family? Not that I know of, though if I had to guess I'd say no.

Impressive career? That's a definite no.

So what would they see in her? What would they like?

I placed the tip of the pen to the paper and began to write out the word 'confidence' beside number one. They would like that. 'A confident girl is a successful girl,' as my Dad always said. Yes, confidence would do.

Next I put down 'beauty,' and then 'drive'. I paused for a moment, deciding whether or not to cross that last one out. It did, to a certain extent, make sense, but would my parents readily see it in her? Or would they just see some dirty stripper their son brought home?

I moved down to line number four, leaving 'drive' at three. It really doesn't matter much anyway.

"What are you doing, Doc?" Esme asked as she glided out of the bathroom, a towel twirled around her curly, wet mane. The rest of her was, not surprisingly, uncovered, which made me feel, once again not surprisingly, incredibly uncomfortable. I crossed my legs awkwardly as she walked over, completely and utterly unaware of what she was doing to me.

"Nothing," I muttered quickly, pushing the notepad into my pants pocket. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, her expression slightly scary. Then, before I even knew what was going on, she had me lying on my back, arms and legs straight up in the air as she mercilessly tickled my abdomen while I laughed uncontrollably.

"Esme!" I screeched, trying to get away from her frightening finger tips. She giggled and with her left hand, as her right was still tickling my side, she smoothly removed the notepad, immediately flipping to the last page I was on.

She mocked clearing her throat, pounding her chest lightly with a closed fist as she eyed the paper and began reading. "'Qualities Mum and Dad would like in Esme'. Hmm…interesting. Mind if I read more, Doc?"

She waited less than a second before continuing her read aloud, causing me to sigh in exasperation. She reminded me so much of Edward when he was a child, but more in a positive way then a negative.

"Number one, 'Confidence,' with an uppercase 'C'," Esme said, smiling a bit. I shrugged and she continued, "Number two, 'Beauty'. Mhmm, doctor, you sure do know how to light a girl's panties on fire," she said sarcastically, giving me a little wink. "And last, but certainly not least, coming in at number three is 'Drive'. Well, I wouldn't say I have much drive, but whatever you say, sexy." She tapped my knee and handed the notepad back.

"So, that's it?' I asked her hesitantly, wondering where she would throw in the catch. No woman I've ever met would let a man get away with making a list for his parents _about them_. They really hate that, don't know why but they do. They're just sensitive that way I guess.

She raised her eyebrows and widened her eyes, flipping her palms out in front of her, mocking my questioning tone and posture. "You tell me, honey. I mean, if you want this to be it, it can be, but if you want more, I'm open 24-hours a day."

Esme's cute phrase caused me to smile. When she wanted to be, she could become so irrisistable.

"I don't know what I want right now. But surely you must understand that I didn't mean to get to this point with you. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I'm not usually a complicated man," I explained. She tilted her head slightly and nodded.

"I understand. And, to be honest, I didn't really know what I was getting myself into last night either. I'm complicated but not that complicated." She paused for a second to laugh, though it sounded dry and fake. "Well, maybe it is. Sometimes. Either way, I'm sorry for doing this to you. A good Doctor like you shouldn't be with women like me. I think I was a little high last night anyway, so I guess we can just say it was no one's fault."

Esme went to grab her coat, but I caught her wrist, preventing her from moving. "Wait, Esme, please don't leave. Not now. Please."

She looked down at me, her eyes dancing with amusement. "The doctor begging the prostitute not to leave. What a story to tell all your friends," she joked, ripping her wrist free in the process.

"Esme…" I started, but she hushed me with a raised finger. The gesture reminded me of my mother, causing me to cringe. She noticed my distaste and chuckled softly.

"Don't worry; I'm not leaving you yet. I'm going to milk you for what you're worth first." She smirked and flicked her hair over her shoulder before leaning down to rifle through my suitcase.

I had almost forgotten she was still naked (almost being the key word) and raced over to help her find something suitable to wear.

"Are you sure you don't want me to just run over to your place and pick up some clothes for you? I'm sure that would be better than walking around New York in men's business attire," I reasoned, pulling out a pair of slim black slacks.

Esme shook her head, grabbing the pants out of my hands before I could put them back away. Before I knew it they were half way up her legs, the material bunching over her curvaceous thighs. "_You_ go to _my_ apartment? Not in a million years, Doc."

I gave her a puzzled look as I helped her pull on the pants. I was a fairly skinny man, and she was a very curvy woman, so they were actually quite snug on her and would hardly button around her wide hips. When they finally snapped I yanked them up a bit higher so they could sit on her waist, above her naval. She pulled at the material uncomfortably and gave me an equally puzzled look.

"What's your problem? Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, somewhat defensively.

After loaning her my best pair of slacks you think she would treat me better.

_Women._

"What's wrong with your apartment?" I spat back, my tone as rude as Esme's last remarks.

Esme growled softly, "Nothing's 'wrong' with it, Carlisle. It's just…not up to your standards is all."

My standards? Really? I went to a strip club last night; obviously my standards weren't very high to begin with.

"What do you mean, Esme?" I asked gently, running a thumb across her cheek.

She shrugged lifelessly and moved around to my suitcase, plucking a shirt out from its depths. She pulled it on and tucked it into the pants, pushing the sleeves up as she went. I helped her cuff the pant legs as she chewed on her lip, deciding on a proper answer.

"I-I…it's just that…I mean…look, you don't come from where I come from. I was born in the sewer of society, and I'm still in the sewer of society, whereas you were probably born in a nice big house to a nice happy family, which is probably, I'm only guessing here, what you have now. I don't and I never will. I live in a complete dump on the worst side of town with a bunch of drugged up hookers who never seem to pay their portion of the rent, and the place is trashed and…a-and…"

"And what, Esme?" I asked hesitantly. She looked away from me, a single crystal tear running down her face in a smooth pattern.

"And Charles is there. I know he'll be there," she said, nodding her head, as if to reassure herself of this man's presence at her own home.

"Charles?"

"My ex-boyfriend who knocked me up a couple of years back. I didn't know I was pregnant, so I never stopped drinking or doing drugs. Long story short I had an extremely painful miscarriage, which caused Charles to become my 'ex' boyfriend." She shrugged again, as if the whole situation didn't really matter to her, but I knew better than that. I knew her, and I knew it was seriously troubling her, as it should. The situation she was in sounded horrific, and would surely scar anyone with normal human emotions. She deserves my pity. She deserves society's pity.

"Why would he break up with you after a miscarriage? Did he just want a baby out of you?"

Esme pondered the question as she gazed into the mirror situated above the dresser, her hands firmly planted on the dark stained wood. Her fingertips were white from being pressed too hard, and her cheeks were slightly red, either from anger or embarrassment. "Yes. That's all he ever wanted. 'A heir to the throne' he would always say in that sickening voice of his. I hated it. I never wanted a kid, ever. I always thought, 'why would I bring another person into this hell?' And why would I? I'm never going to be glad that baby died, but I'm never going to be really upset, because a baby of Charles is dead anyway. Bless him for dying before he had to see his father."

Silence fell over both of us, her words finally sinking in through my skin. I finally heard them, finally understood them.

_You can help her, Carlisle! You can save her!_

But I can't. I really can't. She doesn't fit the mold. I mean, I could give her a couple hundred dollars, tell her to get on a plane and fly somewhere new, but I she could never be a real part of my life, not with a story like that. Mum would kick her out of the house before she could even say hello and Dad…oh Dad. He'd probably file a police report or something against her, get her arrested. They would definitely never allow marriage to ever come into the picture, so what's the point?

I guess I can always try. Give her a nice day on the town before going back home. It's the least I can do.

"You should go take a shower," Esme stated halfheartedly, her form still hunched over the dresser. She looked almost sick. "I want to get out of here soon. We should go out, get some air."

I nodded my agreement and walked over to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me.

**OoOoOoOoO**

"We could go to Bloomingdale's if you want. It's only a block away."

Esme stared at me as if I had just offered to go to hell.

We were walking down the sidewalk, Esme licking at an ice cream cone I had just bought her. We had taken a taxi to Serendipity 3, an old favorite of mine, and were now looking for somewhere to buy clothes for Esme. She had offered some pretty…low class places, all of which I shot down. If I'm going to do this for her, I need to do it right, which means giving her a nice new wardrobe. Not stuff from some seedy dive in Brooklyn, something _expensive_. Something I would approve of.

"Are you kidding me? Have you been there before?" she asked incredulously. Her eyebrows were raised and her eyes were wide. She licked her ice cream cone a couple of times before continuing. "The prices there are ridiculous. No way am I paying two-hundred bucks for a pair of shoes."

I shrugged, "I've bought a couple of suits there before. It's nothing out of my normal price range." I said the words without really thinking; only noticing how snotty they sounded a few seconds later. I looked away sheepishly as Esme sighed.

"Well, we can go if you're paying. The wad of cash you gave me yesterday is going to my rent, not to new clothes."

"Do you need new clothes?" I asked. I didn't want to treat her like a charity case, but I also wanted her to have everything she needed. Her situation was rather depressing, and caused sympathy to pool in my heart. I needed to help her, somehow. If buying her a new wardrobe is it, I shall buy her a new wardrobe.

She gave me a puzzled expression. "Why do you care so much about me? I mean, I've never met a guy who would willingly go out and buy me clothes. You're quite odd, Carlisle."

I gave her a cheeky grin, "I'm not like 'most guys', Esme. You should know that by now."

She laughed sweetly and grabbed my hip with one hand. "Mmm…you taught me that last night, didn't you?"

I winked at the little minx and planted a swift kiss on her forehead. "I try, malady. I try."

"Either I was high as a kite or you're some sort of professional at sex, because last night was fucking amazing. Seriously," she clarified. She pinched my hip sharply and patted my groin as she tossed her empty ice cream cone into the trash. She wiped her sticky hands on her pants (scratch that, _my pants_) and flitted back over to my side, her eyes dancing with mirth. She was quite dashing in my clothes, and even more dashing without a bra on underneath. Which reminds me, I need to buy one for her. No matter how sexy it is, it's really not appropriate in public, especially when concerning Esme, who is a rather busty individual.

"I hate to be invasive, but you've mentioned drug usage a few times, which has me worried. What sort of drugs are you talking about?" I asked her quietly.

She quickly looked away from me, ignoring my gaze. "It's nothing. The boss gives us stuff to calm our nerves," she swiftly clarified. I could tell by her tone and posture that she was obviously lying. I gave her a strong look, pestering her to continue.

"And what else do you do? I can tell you aren't saying everything."

She fidgeted under my scrutiny, pausing for a moment before replying.

"Charles and my friend Vera, who's his most recent girlfriend, like to do yayo in my apartment sometimes. I like to take some shots once in a while, just for fun."

"Yayo? Sorry, I'm a little behind on my drug lingo," I explained. As a surgeon living in rural New York I don't hear about drugs very often, and when I do they are always said in precise medical terms.

"Cocaine. You know, crack, base, zip, whatever you want to call It it's the same shit." She looked down for a moment, closing her eyes briefly as she considered her next words.

"Alice brings X to almost every party and James, Bella's boyfriend, usually has a couple of ounces of dope on him. Drugs are a part of life, you know? It's just the way things are."

Cocaine? Ecstasy? Heroin? Good Lord, what have I gotten myself into this time?

_You got a crack head on your hands now, Carlisle. _

"No, I don't know what you mean. I don't do drugs, I don't even smoke. Esme, if what you're saying is true you need to get help. Addictions can be serious, and you can be seriously in-"

"Oh, shut up!" she snapped, cutting me off sharply. Her voice was laced with venom, and although I was quite a bit taller and quite a bit stronger I immediately stopped talking. She was quite imposing when she wanted to be, and I certainly didn't want to test her boundaries.

"You think I'm going to die from snorting a few lines every couple of days? You think I'm going to die from shooting up a few times each week? You think a happy pill is going to kill me? No, Carlisle, they won't kill me. Smokes are probably more likely to kill me anyway, and I'm sure as hell not planning on giving those up any time soon. Drugs aren't that bad. They're actually a lot of fun, and if you saw my life you would want something that could make you happy, if only for an hour or two." I felt her hand wrap around mine, her palm warm and comforting around me. "So please don't worry about me. I'll be okay, and if I die then I die. We all have to sometime, right?"

"You need to live first, Esme," I reminded her. My thumb instinctively ran across her skin in a soft and soothing manner. She shrugged, her eyes darting from the concrete sidewalk to the storefronts beside us. She began to walk faster, almost dragging me as she raced ahead.

"Don't worry, I'll live one day. But first, can we go in here?" she asked brightly. I looked up to see what she was pointing at and smiled in pleasant surprise. It was Dylan's Candy Bar.

"You've never been here before?" I asked curiously. Esme said she had lived in the city her whole life; surely she's been to such a famous land mark. I don't even live here, but I've been to the Candy Bar more times than I can count.

She shook her head, causing her caramel curls to bounce around cutely. "Never. Who has money to blow on candy?"

I chuckled, "The same man who has money to blow on three scoops of minty chocolate chip ice cream."

She blushed, "You didn't have to buy that for me."

"But I wanted to," I explained. "Come on, let's go. Everyone should have the opportunity to go here at least once." She squeezed my hand and raced to the door, throwing it open quickly as I followed her in an ungraceful and clumsy manner.

**OoOoOoOoO**

"That was a lot of fun. Thanks," Esme said as she lapped at a multi-colored lollipop.

"It was my pleasure. So, where to next? We should probably get you some clothing, and then I'll need to call Edward. Maybe he can meet us for lunch somewhere?" I offered, waiting for her reply.

She nodded stoutly, "Sounds good, Doc. I suppose we can go to Bloomingdale's, but you can't spend that much money on me, alright?"

A smile slid across my face. "I won't. Promise."

I may have made that promise to Esme, but in the end I just couldn't keep it. Anything she wanted was hers, and she wanted quite a lot. She flew down the aisles, grabbing various shoes and dresses, and tossing them into my general area. I found out her favorite color was purple, which made sense considering the outfit I saw her in last night. She joked that the clothes she wore on stage were the only things she was allowed to pick. "Everything else is the bosses' property," she said with a slight shrug.

She tried on all of her findings and had me work as her official 'change this to a different size' guy. She'd toss something over the door and throw out a lower or higher number. Either she really didn't understand her own body's proportions, or she just wanted me to run around doing her will, which really didn't bother me at all. I enjoyed being with Esme, in any form. Her presence was not only comforting but also exciting. She was a new spark on the horizon. She was an exotic gem for a faraway land. She was the most fun I had ever had.

"Better go up one, Doc!" Esme sang, tossing me a dark-colored skirt. I caught it easily. "I got wide hips, you know?"

I chuckled, nodding to myself. "Whatever you say, Esme."

I quickly gathered the other garments she wanted and returned to her dressing room, tapping at the door delicately to warn her of my presence.

She ripped the door open, her pale skin as bare as the day she was born, and grabbed the clothes from my arms. I heard her bubbling laughter as she shut the door in front of my rather shocked face.

Once I had regained my composure I chastised her quietly. "Esme! Not in public, please!"

She snorted, "Whatever you say, Doc."

Once Esme was done with clothes shopping, I purposefully directed her to the lingerie department. She giggled playfully and slapped my chest lightly when I urged her to go pick something out.

"Want something special for tonight, hmm?" Esme asked in an alluring tone. She flipped a stand of caramel colored hair over her shoulder and gave me a seductive wink. I inwardly groaned. This would definitely end up taking an unnecessarily long amount of time.

"Actually," I hissed lowly as I grabbed Esme's shoulder and pulled her over to a rack of somewhat plain brassieres, "I just want you to look semi-decent while in public. I don't want you to embarrass yourself in public, or me." I only realized how rude I sounded after the words had left my mouth, but by that time it was already too late. Why was I degrading her so horribly? Has she not caused so much happiness in your life in the last twenty hours, Dr. Cullen? So why do you have to do this to her?

"I'm sorry," I mumbled hoarsely. Esme glanced at me, her eyes glassy and somber. She looked, for the first time, quite upset. "I'm sorry," I repeated dumbly.

"I don't care if I embarrass you, Cullen. I really don't," she told me dismissively as she flicked through a neighboring rack with wavering eyes. "It doesn't bother me."

"It was still rude of me. Here," I handed her a wad of cash from my wallet, placing it in her palm face down. She cast me a quizzical look. "I'll be waiting outside when you're done. I already have someone taking all your other stuff to my hotel, so don't worry about that. Just buy what you want and meet me outside."

"Carlisle…" she started, shaking her head slightly as I began to retreat from the department. I was already getting enough weird stares.

"It's okay, Esme. I just need to call Edward. I'll see you in a few."

She gave me a confused goodbye but allowed me to go. I needed some time to think, away from her. Away from everything.

I quickly exited the department store, finding a convenient bench only a few paces away from the store front. I pulled out my phone and punched in my brother's number, patiently waiting for him to pick up.

"Hey! Carlisle! Where the hell are you?" Edward asked jokingly.

I chuckled, "It's a really long story, one I don't want to bore you with, but if you come meet me for lunch I can give you the recap."

There was a break on the other side and I imagined Edward checking his mental calendar for any events. "Sounds good. Where at? Wait, where are you?"

"I'm actually at Bloomingdale's, well I'm waiting outside Bloomingdale's. Uh, Esme needed new clothes."

There was another pause then an eruption of laughter sounded through the tiny electronic device. I frowned, pulling it away from my ear to avoid the distorted sound. Once he was over his complete delirium, he began peppering me with rather embarrassing questions.

"You got laid, didn't you?"

"Was she any good?"

"You used a condom right?"

"Please tell me you know what that means, old man."

I sighed, rubbing my forehead absent-mindedly. I suddenly had a raging headache.

"Yes, I know what that means, Edward. And we did use uh, protection," I said awkwardly. My voice held a slight tremor and my words had a slight stammer. It was an embarrassing, and private thing to talk about with anyone. Even open-book-Edward.

"There we go man!" Edward hollered. I heard something slam and then a loud yell, presumably from Edward. It sounded like 'my brother finally got laid!'

Great. Now he's telling his roommates. That's really what I need right now.

"How much did it cost?" Edward asked eagerly. I heard laughing in the background, obviously coming from his buddies.

_You shouldn't have even called him. You knew he would do this._

"I didn't pay her for sex, Edward!" I spouted angrily. "It was consensual and mutual. I wouldn't try anything if it weren't."

Edward scoffed, "Course you wouldn't, oh God-like Carlisle! Well, even if you didn't pay her for sex she's still a stripper, which means for once in my life _I_ didn't make the bad choice. _You_ did."

I knew Edward was probably smirking, which only aggravated me further. Why was he being such a prick? Oh, right, because he's Edward and Edward's an ass.

"It wasn't a _bad choice_," I hissed back, "I was just acting on my feelings for her. Yes, that's right, _feelings_, Mr. Cullen, which is something you've never had for a girl."

_That was pretty low._

But, in my defense, it was true. Sure, Edward's had numerous girlfriends, but not a single one has been serious. He dates women to have something on his shoulder, not to have someone who will actually feel for him and expect returned emotions. At this stage in his life he just doesn't care. But I do, and hopefully he will understand that.

"Feelings? For a stripper? Come on Carlisle, don't do this. Please. I mean they're nice to play with and everything but you…you…" He paused for a moment, thinking of a better way to phrase the sentence. "You just don't do that. You just don't."

I rubbed at my forehead for a minute, my eyes shut, and my mind miles away. What if he's right? What if what I'm doing is wrong? Maybe it is. I suppose I can see where he's right.

"I know, Edward. I've already thought about this, and to be honest I'm done thinking about it, so just drop it for now, okay? I guess I'll talk to you later."

Edward coughed and shuffled around on the other side. "Wait, I'm sorry about what I said. If you like her, date her. It doesn't matter what she does, love is love, right? Fuck what everyone thinks, heck, fuck what I think. Just do what you want to do. You're grown, I'm sure you can make better decisions then some college kid can. But one quick question, have you thought about Mum and Dad and what they will think? I don't think either of them would be very happy," he warned clearly.

I chuckled a bit.

_I don't think either of them would be very happy. Yea, that's the understatement of the century._

They would most likely be livid, maybe even beyond that, but I couldn't let my parents run my life like they are now. As Edward said, love is love and no one can change that.

"I know, they'll be mad, I've already thought of them, but I don't plan on doing anything about it. I mean what _can _I do? If I love Esme, and want to have a serious relationship with her, then I will, whether or not they approve."

_Confidence is key, Dr. Cullen. Confidence is key!_

"True. Well, it's your choice, not mine. Whatever you want to do, it's up to you," he reminded me calmly. "It's always up to you."

**OoOoOoOoO**

**AN : Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed! Love you guys! **

**Auf Wiedersehen!**


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